With My Fists
by ShadowMayne
Summary: Food, Money, Life. Dean takes care of this family but for once, maybe they might need to take care of him. PrePilot COMPLETE!..Sequel now up..search for !with my fists 2!
1. Chapter 1

Ok guys, don't worry "Flames Won't Burn" isn't abandoned, just got writers block for it so I started this one. I have five chapters done for this. (So far).

**Summary:** Food, Money, Life. Dean takes care of this family…but for once, maybe they might need to take care of him. (Pre-Pilot)

**With My Fists**

**Chapter One**

Dean wandered from the cupboard to the fridge and back again, one arm held protectively over his stomach.

Four days they had sat in this cabin without leaving, not only was he crawling up the walls; Sam had eaten most of the food.

He stared at the almost empty pantry as though it would refill if he wished hard enough.

Half a box a cereal stared back at him, stubbornly refusing to be replenished.

He sighed, turning away from the wooden door as his free hand hit it closed and back to the fridge.

He opened it to see half a carton of off milk and an almost empty container of butter.

The freezer held even less, a single piece of bread still wrapped in the bag it had come in was stuffed at the back…frost clutching at the sides of the plastic.

He slammed the door closed and turned to his eleven year-old brother. Sammy stared at him with demanding eyes, apparently unaware that the cupboard was even empty.

"I'm hungry Dean." He whinged over his homework. "You've been serving less and less every night…"

Dean sighed, trying to shut out Sam's voice for a moment. He was hungry too. He turned back to the pantry and set the cereal in front of Sam.

Enough for one bowl.

"For dinner?" Sam demanded.

Dean nodded, "pretend its breakfast."

Sam pouted for moment before seizing the bowl Dean set before him and pouring the last of the food into it.

"Milk?" he demanded, his puppy dog eyes squinted up to his older brother.

"It's off Sammy; eat 'em like that…"

"Dad better go shopping when he gets back." Sam announced, digging into his meal, oblivious to Dean's hungry eyes watching his every bite.

Dean stayed silent at Sam's comment. Dad never went shopping for this family. Ever.

Dad went to bars and tried to hustle pool until he was so drunk that fifteen year old Dean, decked with fake IDs had to carry him and the last of his cash out before heading out to make the money himself.

Dean shifted from his seat and reached into his bag, pulling out his packet of M&Ms.

It was basically empty but he managed to fish the remaining few from the bottom.

"I'll go tomorrow if he's not back." Dean said, hoping their father wouldn't return for a week or two.

John Winchester was on a hunt, and for all Dean knew he was probably kicking some spirit to hell at that moment.

Dean had wanted to go with his father, but Sam had solidly refused to hunt that day. Dean had been delegated the job of watching him.

'It'll be a chance for you to study for once Dean.' John had shouted as he left the room, knowing fully that Dean would go straight to the television and remain there for the majority of the hunt.

Dean glanced at Sammy as he settled in front of the television. He was bored. Maybe the chance to go out and get some money would be fun.

He checked his watch…seven o'clock. He had plenty of time. He stood up.

"Sam I'm gonna go get some cash ok?"

Sam looked up demanding a better explanation. "Really?"

"Look in the cupboard Sammy…it's empty, if I'm…dad's going to go shopping tomorrow we need money…" He smirked. "I have the mobile; call me if you need a goodnight story." He teased as he left the room. "If dad calls while I'm gone I am in the shower or asleep got it?"

Sam nodded half-heartedly. "And if you're not back by one come down to the bar and carry your drunken ass back here." He added, looking mischievous.

Dean flinched, "I'm not going to the bar today Sam…"

"What? Dean where else would you go?"

Dean waved his hand to the piece of paper he had gotten from a guy at school. "That's where." Then he was gone, knowing Sam wouldn't understand anyway.

He was a good liar, and no matter how much it hurt him to lie to his brother, this once they needed it, he didn't want to starve to death in that motel room.

Besides, if Sam knew where he was really going…well, lets just say that Dean would be tied to a chair and confronted with a very upset Sam.

Dean didn't want to do this, how was he going to hide this from his father…

He shook himself mentally, he had always hidden it from Dad, and this time wouldn't be any different.

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Ok guys, what do you think? Good? Bad? Like it? Loath it? Keep going? End it?

It's all up to you. REVIEW!

Keep Smilin' :) Deana.


	2. Chapter 2

Wow guys, thanks so much for your support. You are amazing! I can't reply to you all so I'm gonna list you instead. THANKYOU! and sorry if I spell your names wrong.

morning sunlight

tvbatina

purehalo

Unreal Wanderers

kokomocalifornia

Nathanslilsis

SVOC Luva

Thru Terry's Eyes

KatieMalfoy19

mtuffy

MJ

Sarah

Twinciniama

LovinJackson

Blazingfire03

xxsummerlove14x3

PowrRangrFreeek

WelshChicky

Zachiliam

**Chapter Two**

Sam watched Dean bolt out of the door with a bag slung over his shoulder. He shook his head slightly, wondering what madness had possessed Dean. He slouched over to the paper the lay on the bench, curiosity getting the better of him.

_F.C _

_Tonight 8pm_

_Easy Cash, be there._

_We have business to settle._

Sam stared at the note. F.C? What does that mean? Probably some ridiculous nickname Dean had earned.

Tonight 8pm? Well that's straight forward, Sam reasoned, Easy Cash and be there were also logical.

We have business to settle? That set off alarm bells.

Last time some un-finished business with Dad bad things had happened. Sam had been kidnapped, Dean had been put in hospital and Dad had had to kill off the spirit that had caused the entire situation himself.

And they still wondered why Sam hated hunting? Sam shook his head at the note, trying to decipher some of the oddness about it.

It was written in deep blue ink until the last line, which was written in red, as though it was intimidating. Apparently Dean hadn't been too intimidated though.

The crunching of stones under tires attracted Sam's attention. Headlights flicked off and a car door opened.

He bit his lip and bolted into the bathroom, grabbing the motel phone as he went.

"Come on Dean, pick up…" He whispered dialling the number and pressing the phone to his ear while listening intently for a key sliding into a lock.

"Yo?" Dean's voice answered, bringing waves of relief to his little brother.

"Dad's home." Sam said without hesitation.

Dean swore…several times…several loud and vehement times.

Sam heard voices on the other end of the line. "Dean? Where are you?" he demanded.

Screaming and commotion replied to him. "Sam I gotta go, I'm at a bar alright…tell dad I'm at a bar…" Dean's voice was panicked, obviously petrified at what his father would think if he knew the truth.

The last thing Sam heard before the line went dead was a loud and menacing voice saying, "Come on Winchester…not gonna chicken out? I'll wipe the floor with you…"

Sam jumped at this. Dean didn't sound ok. Dean didn't sound very ok at all.

The key slid into the door and it flung open to reveal a muddy John Winchester, staring at Sam's best look of innocence.

_What have my boys done this time? _He wondered, dumping his things on the table.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Dean left the motel room at high speed. Ducking under the branches of a lone tree and he sprinted towards the not so flamboyant parts of town.

His father would kill him if he knew.

Dean stepped into the dark alley, staring at the "bouncer" that eyed him warily.

"McFinnigan invited me." He said roughly, pushing past the bouncer before he had a chance to react, not that he could have stopped Dean anyway.

Perhaps that's why they chose the little scrawny boy to act as a guard for the building, make the 'guests' feel tough, then wipe them on the floor.

He really acted as a reminder that it was their choice to come here, that they had to accept responsibility for any injuries they got.

That they would be the ones calling the ambulance if they got hurt, that no one was here to help.

Dean didn't mind though. It was all the same to him. Fighting ghosts for the world, or fighting men for money.

This is just another fight club. Just another few bruises, the cash back was good.

The only thing Dean resented about this was that if he lost, it was anything but graceful.

These guys don't mess around. Dean learned that lesson the hard way. He was already hurt from a spirit they had tackled a few days ago, another reason his father had left him behind. He sighed, he couldn't loose this fight, not against McFinnigan, and he was like the mafia in one man.

If he lost his fight, he'd loose his life.

He lived for the ecstasy.

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Ok review and tell me what you think.

Also I've been wondering if you could have one who would it be…SAM OR DEAN?

Tell me your thoughts…Do you like where this went? Please review!

Keep Smilin' :) Deana.


	3. Chapter 3

As it happens, I have never been to a fight club, nor do I know anyone who, as far as my knowledge stretches, has. This club is the workings of my head, shaped to fit a story and bears no resemblance to any real one. If it does, it is guess work and speculation that have brought that about.

Thank you guys sooo much for you reviews, I am so happy to have your support.

I am gonna reply to all you guys right here because you deserve it. Thanks again.

**PowrRangrFreeek: **Thanks for your review. I have been having trouble picking too.

**Deana-Samantha: **Why on Earth you couldn't just tell me this I have no idea. And I will update and you won't know the end before that time. Oh well, nice to know you like it and you're enthusiastic about more.

**Nathanslilsis: **I agree with you a little, you'll notice John often likes to be in control, but I think he cares a lot about the boys' health as well. You have an amazing point and I have included why I think John's reacts the way he did in a later chapter. Thanks for your feedback. Means a lot.

**WelshChicky: **Here is John finding out, but the real reactions starts a little later. Thanks for your review.

**Thru Terry's Eyes: **I am glad to know you are pulled in by the story, and I assure you personally there will definitely be more. Thanks so much for your review.

**Kokomocalifornia: **I know it would be harsh to hurt his lovely face, but I guess you'll have to wait and find out what happens to it.

**mtuffy: **I think Dean has layers too, you're not alone, I think a lot of people like bad boys. I am glad you like it!

**Alyssa: **I like being original, in fact I never meant for this to be a fight club scenario, it just kinda happened. Thanks for your review!

**twincinima: **Glad to know someone didn't have to think about it for a moment. Hope this is soon enough.

**Sokerfreek922: **Aww, thank you so much. I am glad you like the story, I have a thing for angst. Thanks!

**Unreal Wanderers: **I am glad you like it! Thanks so much!

**SupernaturalXGurl05: **Thanks for reviewing! It means lots that you take time out of your day to do so.

**BacktoBedlam: **I hope this is soon enough for you! Thanks for your review.

There we go guys, a page a replies, thanks for your patience, here's chapter three!

**Chapter Three**

Sam offered his father dinner, a piece of bread he had dug out of the freezer. He observed his father guardedly, as though he might attack him at any moment asking about Dean.

At the tender age of eleven Sam sturdily resented his father, but hadn't wrenched the courage up to inform him yet.

John stared intently at the bread that had been placed in front of him.

"Where's your brother Sam?" He asked.

"We didn't have any food Dad, he hasn't eaten in a day, and he just stomped around staring at the cupboard. I was complaining. I knew you'd want money when you go shopping tomorrow." Sam attempted to influence his father. "So he went out to get some…"

John sighed, running a hand over his face, Sam was babbling, which usually meant he would commence lying in a moment.

"Where did Dean go?" He demanded.

"A bar." Sam supplied tentatively, as though his father could see through his lies.

"Where did he go Sam?" His father's voice ascended in irritation.

"I don't know." Sam said, usually, he would have argued with him. But he was apprehensive over the voice that had called to Dean as they spoke on the phone.

"Did he say anything about where he was going?" John asked, surprised his head hadn't been severed by his youngest.

"He said he was going to the place mentioned here." Sam retrieved the note from the bench and gave it to his father.

John stared at it for a moment. Putting it all together. The bruises, black eyes, broken fingers, cuts.

It had never been fighting at school…How did it ever come to this? He asked silently, even though he knew, it was he who had brought this down on his family.

Why didn't Dean ever tell anyone?

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Well guys, as it happens, Dean is the winner. Of all the reviews I got, most of you said you liked him better, and as it is, I agree, hence the name, Deana.

I know the chapters are short…sorry about that. Please please please review, it means faster updates!

Thanks, Keep Smilin' ShadowMayne.


	4. Chapter 4

Hey guys, once again your amazing support has made me incredibly happy and forced me to work harder at this.

THANKS SOOO MUCH!

**Nathanslilsis: **Thanks for your review. Hope this is soon enough.

**SokerFreek992: **I hope this is soon enough for you, thanks!

**LeanneB: **Who wouldn't? Glad you like it.

**TangledPencils: **Thanks. Hope you like this one.

**JRAismine: **-JRA- has been claimed by like everyone here, myself included. There's going to be competition. Thanks for your review.

**Chocca2: **Thanks. Hope this is soon enough.

**Unreal Wanderers: **This one is longer than the last…I think. Thanks.

**purehalo: **As it is you're going to have to fight for him, cuz everyone wants him. Lol, me too…thanks for the review!

**purehalo: **Don't ask me why I didn't reply to both in one go…I think I'm crazy. Anyways, thanks for the review!

**Thru Terry's Eyes: **An interesting metaphor. I hope this is long enough to satisfy. Thanks.

**Chapter Four**

Dean dumped his bag in the corner of the room, along with several other bags. Each more of a fashion statement than a purpose.

He stripped away his jacket revealing a singlet and ripped jeans. Two men were already fighting, a group of about one hundred meandered the small hall, some starting fights, some jeering, more than half drunk, by either the beer or the punch.

A strong voice called him forwards, beckoning him to the central mat. A hug rug with a makeshift rubber fence around it served as a cheap boxing ring.

But this wasn't boxing. This was fist fighting, attacking. The only rule: someone wins.

Weapons were left at the door. Each fighter agreed to pay a certain amount to the winner. Today's gold lotto being a grand sum of $400.

Another reason Dean couldn't loose. He fingered the twenty dollar note in is pocket, praying to whatever deity that he would win.

He chose to start off with easy pickings, get enough money to be able to pay the big guys back.

Then he would take McFinnigan. Sighing he singled out an opponent. The man was a least twice his width but was short.

Dean had seen him fight before, he knew his style. Easy pickings.

They both dropped into defensive stances, eying each others movements. Dean waited, waited for the lamb to come to the slaughter.

The man growled and lurched forwards, right into Dean's waiting trap.

A powerful punch to the gut and one to the cheek sent him reeling backwards. Dean smirked.

The man backed away for a moment before approaching Dean again, this time prepared, this time watching.

Dean backed away, dodging one fist and sending another back.

A panting breath, a loud smack in the face, Dean felt blood cascade down from his nose.

He broke his nose! Dean's eyes narrowed, he hadn't been ready, and this time he would be. He punched the guy, as hard as he could.

The man fell, writhing on the ground. Immediately men raced over.

"Well done Winchester!"

"Got 'em good!"

Voices all around him, screaming their approval. He hated doing this. Hated causing people pain, but sometimes, it's what it takes to live. And as long as Dean lived, Sam would too.

Twenty-four hundred dollars richer Dean found himself facing the overly red, arrogant face. The face that held a fist that had knocked twelve guys flat on their faces. A fist that could easily wipe Dean out.

A fist that belonged to McFinnigan.

A fist that wanted to kill, and tonight, one could be certain, it would.

Dean bit his lip, a broken nose, a dislocated finger, a bleeding arm. Not bad for six fights.

But not good enough either.

He tensed up as the toothy, bad dental plan smile turned to him. Promising pain.

Dean's half smirk promised it right back.

Duck.

Lunge.

Kick.

Punch.

Duck.

The fight lasted longer than one ever had. Dean smiled briefly as that final fist came down…pain exploded everywhere.

One of the fighters fell into blackness, the other grinned.

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Ok, the reason last chapter was so short was because I wanted to show John finding out but didn't want to have too much reaction yet. I have six chapters and more to do…but at least you can rest assured more is coming…I appreciate you reviews, sorry if I forgot you or misspelt you name in my reply.

So, the options: A) Dean won. B) Dean lost. C) It was another fight. D) Dean died. E) Mcfinnigan died.

What do you think happened? PLEASE REVIEW!


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry about the wait there, a few friends randomly decided to drive all day to the beach and spend the weekend there. On the plus side, I got a lot of writing done while. Thanks for your support, as it is, it takes up too much space writing replies to you all so I'll list you and here is my thanks. You guys mean the world to this story and my muse…and me, of course!

leanneB

Deana-Samantha

mtuffy

chocca2

melinda warren

Unreal Wanderers

C

BacktoBedlam

MJ

Thru Terry's Eyes

snchills

WofOz

The Magik Dragen

Nathanslilsis:

Sokerfreek992

PabloDivaRidesAgain

TangledPencils

Katrin Van Helsing

KatieMalfoy19

**Chapter Five**

Two men dragged the bloody body after them. Not caring about the victim's health as his head bumped along the floor.

They had done this too many times to care. They had covered up too many brutal murders to worry about one whiny ass boy.

They did their jobs and in return they got money, protection and respect.

Well, respect wasn't the word for it. They were obeyed because they were feared. That kind of respect was not earned by doing great deeds, it was earned by hiding bloody bodies in alleys like this one.

It was done by playing dumb for the cops, which in most cases, wasn't acting at all.

Red McFinnigan wasn't someone you messed around with. If he wanted to fight, you had to fight.

He practically ran the fight club. His father, Patrick had been decent from Ireland, now living the American life; his mother was the kind and dear Hannah Redford from California.

His father named him for his mother, Redford, which over the years became Red. Red liked the name, whenever he heard it; it acted as a sort of reminder that the colour of blood was his name. He intended to draw the red substance from the veins of many merely to prove his name.

His son, Orion, had been named by Red's wife, who was currently rotting in the bottom of a lake somewhere in Canada.

Red didn't want to be nice. Red didn't like to be nice. Red was as nice as the devil on a bad day, sometimes the devil was nicer.

Red watched as they dragged the cocky, now unconscious boy away. Shouts of approval rang out across the hall.

They knew who they must worship and they fulfilled the criteria well enough. For now.

Red gazed at the many rivals he had to pick from now. Orion had done a fine job of pulling new flesh of the street, reeling them in from schools, pubs, garages, streets. Where ever the adolescent brain of his took him at the time.

Red wipe the blood from his face, silently cursing, the little Winchester packed a mean punch.

He refused another fight and left for the night.

He followed his henchmen down the stairs. "Make sure no one ever finds him again." He said, and then he was gone.

Most of the long term fighters here had theories about what McFinnigan was. Some said he was a ghost, for no other could vanish like he. Some said he was an illusional, never really there to vanish anyways.

Red liked to think of himself as a god, but in all honest truth, he was just a fighter.

No one ever guess where Dean Winchester would be come the rising of the sun.

He made sure no one could trace it to him; he made sure he was clean.

Dean could die in peace.

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So, another chapter for you. As for Red's wife, I'll let you decide what happened there.

So…is John going to save Dean? Will Dean die? Is Red gonna get what he deserves? Am I mental?

Please REVIEW! It means fast updates. Thanks.


	6. Chapter 6

Hey guys, thanks for your support even though I might have made Dean loose, but please trust me one last time and read to the end of this chapter…please? You'll be a little more satisfied.

By the way, all flames are used to roast marshmallows and warm hot chocolate. ;)

REVIEWERS: (thanks so much, you mean the world to me)

Deana-Samantha

LeanneB

Talon81

Katrin Van Helsing

Unreal Wanderers

mtuffy

sokerfreek992

Thru Terry's Eyes

purehalo

snchills

meg

L.C.Brotherton

Blazingfire03

twincinima

Welsh Chicky

**Chapter Six**

"What is it?" Sam demanded, peering over his father's shoulder. "Where's Dean?"

John tried to control his emotions, pride swelling up inside of him, as well as grief, anger.

Pride because he had taught his boys to fight. Pride that Dean was using his natural talent to help this family, but the pride was swallowed by other emotions.

Dean knew they weren't supposed to draw attention to themselves. Dean knew the bruises would be checked by social services if teachers saw them.

Dean knew that if the policed stopped an illegal fight club he would be punished. Dean knew Sam needed him free from the law.

Dean knew that despite all his training, there were men bigger and stronger than he. Dean knew this could kill him.

John sighed, wiping his face with one hand, trying to decide on a course of action.

"DAD!" Sam's loud and extremely frantic voice charged into his thoughts like a freight train.

"What Sam?" He asked trying to suppress the voices in his head that were telling him Dean was in trouble.

Satisfied he had John's attention Sam crossed his arms and gave John a look that said Sam was the one in control, whether he liked it or not.

"Where did Dean go?" Sam asks calmly, eyes glaring at John in the unspoken defiance he held.

"Have you read this Sam?" John asked, knowing Sam had. Sam raised an eyebrow in response, as if to say, Duh.

John would have scolded the boy, but he was beginning to think it would have no effect so settled for accepting the answer.

"F.C," He read. "It means Fight Club, I think."

"Fight Club?" Sam asked. John sighed; the damn eleven year old needed a lesson on the illegal activities of people.

"People go to a fight club and punch the hell out of each other for money." John took a deep breath; he didn't add that people died there. He shouldn't worry his son.

Sam saw emotion flitter over his father's face. "People die there." Sam said, it wasn't a question. It was a statement.

John looked at his son. "Dean won't."

Sam watched his father for a moment, apparently he was going to protest and demand they go and rescue his brother. Instead he swallowed.

"What so we do now?"

OoOoOoOo

A cold breeze brushed against his skin. It was night time. He was sure of that.

He couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not, either way all he saw was black.

He was lying on something cold and hard. Just great.

Why did his body hurt so much? Why did everything hurt…even his hair hurt, which apparently was possible.

He tried to remember what had happened, calling for his dad, for Sammy.

But all he heard was a distant groan.

Was that his? Dean stared into the darkness and silently prayed to whatever deity was listening that he would survive.

And maybe, just maybe, one might hear his pleas.

Dean shifted again, a shot of pain forced its way into his side, but his eyes opened. The dark alley around him came into vision faster than he thought it would.

He stumbled to his feet, half swaying, almost toppling back to the ground.

He knew where he was, he had made a point of getting to know the area well before he went to fight.

His eyes adjusted to the harsh light of the alley, which was pretty dull.

His legs taking him where they wanted to go.

He had four hundred dollars to get back, and when Dean Winchester is angry…

Well, let's just hope McFinnigan remembers what happens.

TBC

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You guys don't have a lot of faith in me do you? Trust me; what happens will be much more dramatic this way. ;)

I ask you review and make my day! I tried to make this chapter longer; originally it finished with John and Sam. Your reviews are the reason I am updating today rather than tomorrow.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review. Thanks, keep smilin' :) ShadowMayne


	7. Chapter 7

Once again I must thank each and every one of you who read and review. It means the world to me and I am eternally sorry for the late update.

Please please please continue to review. It will be motivation to keep writing.

Thanks to: (sorry if I forget/misspell your name)

Melinda Warren, Nathanslilsis, The magik dragen, Thru Terry's Eyes, sokerfreek992, Lp29, Altsoba, L'insomnie des etoiles, JRAismine, Unreal Wanderers, purehalo, Mishka89, Twincinima, chocca2, blazingfire03, xxsummerlove14x3

**Chapter Seven**

John stared at Sam. "What do you mean what do we do now?"

Sam rolled his eyes, apparently trying to suppress his anger. "I mean, we can't just leave Dean there, we have to go get him."

John studied Sam's face closely; he was unwilling to put Sam in any kind of danger if it would be avoided.

"I'm going to go round a few bars, try and find out where this fight club is, then _I'll _go and get Dean." _And kick his ass for those guys…for scaring me. _

Sam sensed John's thoughts, anger at boiling point in him.

"I am not going to sit here while you go get drunk!" He said loudly, commandingly, with a fury no teen could master.

John felt like a commander was yelling at him back in the marine days. He turned shocked eyes to his son.

The anger in him wavered and vanished, Sam was flustered, he was trying to be strong and his decisiveness fuelled by anger to his father. Sam wanted to save Dean, at whatever cost.

"Do you really think I would abandon your brother?" John asked quietly, dreading the answer.

Sam looked shocked, not the reaction he had been steeling himself for. His forehead furrowed in thought. Then he looked up to his father as though he were seeing someone worth while for once, not as though he were looking at a commander, a drill sergeant, a torturer.

"No dad." It was honest. John let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. There was no 'sir', no anger, no defiance, just love, acceptance. Something he didn't get from either boy much.

Though he couldn't blame them, he was hardly the father of the millennium. But he did his best.

And he would rip this town apart and search until hell froze over to find his son. To save his son.

To right a wrong.

Dean was never meant to have this life, and John couldn't help but blame himself for it. Even though he knew Dean didn't.

"Come on then Sam." John said, grabbing the keys and the note. He had a son to find.

"I'm coming?"

John turned back to his son. "Yes son, I wouldn't normally, but this time, you're right, we can't leave him and I'll need you to convince Dean to leave…"

"Me?"

John shook his head slightly. "Sammy, no one on this earth can resist those eyes."

For the first time in a long time the both laughed, because it eased the tension.

OoOoOoOoO

Dean stumbled again, falling to his knees. He pulled himself up again. His eyes set on the back door of the fight club.

"I'm coming back you bastard." He whispered briefly as the world started spinning again.

OoOoOoOoO

The thing John Winchester loved about this town was that all the bad ass fight club punks were easy to pick.

He loved it even more when they gave him directions to the fight club in question.

He loved it when they were so drunk they didn't realise Sam had been taking note of everything they said.

In fact, it made his day, or night.

Whatever.

The point was he was happy to be strolling past, or rather knocking out the bouncer at the front door of a fight club belonging to none other that McFinnigan.

He charged through the door and up the staircase, Sam trailing behind him, they entered, unseen by everyone there, overlooked.

Then he saw it, in the corner, a black back.

Dean's bag.

OoOoOoOoO

Red entered the side door to the fight club. He had left briefly before realising the kid's bag was here.

It needed to be disposed of. No evidence would point to him.

He was never that sloppy.

Though he didn't expect to walk into the room and have himself thrown against a wall by a man his height, with such brutal strength he almost started shaking. Almost.

"Do you know who I am?" Red demanded of the man.

"You're the idiot who better be giving me directions to my son before you get your oversized head stuck in a car door." The man growled back.

Now Red really did start shaking.

"Take it to the ring!" Someone yelled. Obviously eager to see blood spilt. Red made a mental note to have that fighter kicked out later, literally.

The man pushed him towards the mat. Ready to punch the hell out of him.

OoOoOoOoO

Sam watched his father prepare to beat Dean's whereabouts out of the man. He had already taken on one guy who was trying to get away with money from Dean's bag.

That man had told them of Dean's defeat.

That man had pointed out McFinnigan.

That man was going to wake up in a couple of hours with a concussion.

Sam loved his dad sometimes.

His eyes strayed to the door, a shadow moved beyond the entrance. A figure leaning heavily on the doorframe. Another fighter that had lost. Sam pitied anyone who came here for fun; they clearly had fun issues, and warped self preservation. Yet, Sam admired Dean for coming. It proved how far he went for his family.

Sam watched his father, drag the man to the mat. He could sense John was mad. He lingered in the shadows of a corner, staying out of sight, not wanting to be attacked by drunken fighters. He didn't feel like knocking them all out.

John raised his fist as a voice rang out over the room, attracting all attention.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

TBC

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So, who wants to guess who said that? And why?

Need some dramatic music to play…

Hope you guys are still liking/loving this. Thanks for all your support. Next chapter coming as soon as I write it. By the way, I am going to 'up' the rating just to be safe, though you won't be getting anything that wouldn't be in the show, I hope.

KEEP SMILIN' :)


	8. Chapter 8

Hey guys, sorry for the lateness of this chapter, I had written it then I decided I didn't like it and erased the entire thing to start again. Oh and thanks to my reviews, I made it past 100, thanks!

THANKS TO: (sorry if I misspell/forget you)

Deana-Samantha, Mishka89, Unreal Wanderers, Thru Terry's Eyes, NCSupernaturalFreak, talon81, SivanShemesh, Katrin Van Helsing, snchills, sams1ra, screasey, L'insomnie des etoiles, melinda warren, Caila17, PowrRangrFreeek, purehalo, WelshChicky, dean's girl, deli41321

**Chapter Eight**

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Sam's head snapped to the speaker, his heart pounding. There, leaning against the doorframe, covered in blood and bruises, was Dean.

"Dean!" John said sharply, still holding a McFinnigan.

"Yes sir?" Dean asked, walking forwards, eyes blazing with the need for revenge.

"What were you thinking?" John demanded, resisting the urge to run over and hug Dean.

Dean didn't answer. "Mind if I do that for you?" he asked, motioning to John's hand that was still hovering over the face of Red.

John understood Dean's need to do this, but the father in him didn't want Dean to hurt himself anymore. He looked bad from where he was standing.

"Dean." They turned to see Sam standing there, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in a desperate attempt to mask the concern pouring of him.

"Please dad." Dean asked, grinning as John let McFinnigan go and pushed him towards Dean.

As he walked past his son he lent in and whispered in his ear. "The second this goes bad…"

Dean waved him off, "I have a face to rearrange." Then he jumped forwards, running off adrenaline, forgetting the injuries that plagued his tired body.

McFinnigan instantly regained his bad ass attitude, looking dangerously at Dean.

The dropped into defensive stances, waiting to see what the other did. Red fainted to one side only to have a roundhouse kick land squarely on his side.

He growled, lunging in with a few heavy punches, Dean blocked, ducking under a kick that came for his head.

Red landing a punch to Dean's stomach, as Dean grabbed his head and used the bowed position Red was forced into to knee his face and throw his backwards.

A few cheers rang out through the ring as Red sat up, a foot swinging to his head causing him to go back down. He jumped up, grabbing Dean's foot as it came again and throwing two neat punches to Dean's chest.

Dean stumbled back and John stood up sharply, trying to stop Sam from running out to his brother.

A forceful kick to the chest and Dean was lying on the floor, more cheers. He rolled backwards and pushed himself off the ground using the extra force to back him as he tackled his opponent to the floor.

He pushed Red's head to the ground, and grinned as his opponents eyes flickered closed as unconscious claimed the older man.

Then there was silence as Dean stood up, the first one to ever win against McFinnigan.

He swayed a little, stumbling to the side.

John jumped up, embracing his eldest in a gentle hug wary of the many wounds that his son supported.

"Are you ok?" He asked as Sam hugged his brother.

Dean nodded. "I'm better than ok."

Then the world flickered slightly, his eyes narrowed, trying to bring it back into focus.

Something dripped past his lips and onto his chin. He raised a finger and stared at the sticky red substance that stuck to his skin.

"Oh, not good."

Then the world went black, and he crumbled to the floor.

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Thanks for your continued support! It means the world to me.

I have one question for you though, should I leave this story as it is, with a few extra chapters (tie up a few loose ends), or should I include the next 'hunt' or should I write a sequel?

Its all up to you guys! Hope ya liked the chapter. I tried to write a better fight scene, I was watching action movies to get a feel for them…I don't think it worked, but hey.

Keep Smilin' ;)


	9. Chapter 9

Sorry, this took a while to get updated. I have been debating an ending for this for a while and I have made up my mind, finally, thanks to your help I have picked one of the options that I had up last time. I guess you'll find out which later.

THANKS TO ALL MY REVIEWERS! (Sorry if I misspell/forget your name)

K Hanna Korossy, WelshChicky, Unreal Wanderers, Brenny, The Emerald Phoenix, Thru Terry's Eyes, mtuffy, snchills, sokerfreek922, The Magik Dragen, nikki98499, purehalo, PowrRangrFreeek, kokomocalifornia, The Silent Rumble, DeanLives.

**Chapter Nine**

Strong arms wrapped around the prone form. Gentle, loving, quivering with emotion.

The teenager made no response to the movement, oblivious to the world around him. That scared John a little; he wanted Dean to sit up, push him away and say his famous "I'm fine" line.

Who can blame the guy for dreaming? He gently lifted his son into his arms and stood up, looking around the room for the youngster who had come in with him.

Sam had Dean's bag slung over his shoulder, he was watching Dean with watering eyes.

"Sam, come on, lets go." John said in a calm voice, careful not to anger the boy, the last thing he needed was a full blown yelling match, here of all places.

Sam nodded; he waited for his father to step over the fallen body of Red McFinnigan as though it wasn't there before he slowly walked forward.

Fights had started up elsewhere in the room; people were no longer looking at the child, sometimes being little had its advantages. He bent down, flipping open a pocket and taking the lone four hundred dollars that McFinnigan had.

"Now we're even." He told the body even though it was apparent the bloody figure would never register the words or now they had been spoken.

He followed his father silently, petrified for Dean. He had never seen Dean collapse like that. He had never seen him just fall onto the floor like he had no bones to provide a minute amount of structure.

He was secretly glad his father was here; his mind strayed back to earlier that day, well aware that they had never expected John to return. He shuddered to think what might have happened if they hadn't come. The fact that Sam would have had no way of finding Dean was painfully obvious.

Despite all the resentment he harboured for his father, he was glad that he had him.

OoOoOoOoO

John laid Dean on across the back seat, holding him as Sam climbed up beside his brother, laying the bruised lap.

John smiled slightly as Sam's attachment to his brother, wondering if it was all together a good thing.

He sat in the driver's seat and set out onto the road.

"Hospital?"

It was partly a question, partly an order. John was surprised his son could use that tone of voice, probably inherited.

"No Sam, motel." On any other night Sam might complain about his lack of a complete sentence. He was relieved to find that Sam had no intention of giving an English lesson tonight.

"Dean is hurt Dad." Sam said as if John hadn't noticed. John nodded.

"Not too badly, we can fix him up, the hospital would probably call the police and then we might end up in trouble." He pointed out, not wanting to go into the 'why all police officers should be avoided, not only because they have stupid uniforms but because law + Winchester bad things happening.'

To his ultimate surprise Sam nodded, for the first time in a long time he agreed completely with his father.

He let his head rest of the seat, a stray hand brushed Dean's hair gently.

OoOoOoO

John pulled up outside they're room, thankful to every deity that the door to their apartment came out just beside the parking lot, and that they had no foyers and hallways to tackle. He was even more thankful that the area was deserted.

He had no idea how to explain the reason he was carrying an unconscious beaten teenager into his cheap motel room in the middle of the night.

It was suspicious enough. He turned of the engine, twisting in his seat to check on Dean.

Dean's head has in Sammy's lap; Sam had one hand through his brother's hair and the other resting on Dean's chest, as though feeling for a heartbeat. The younger of the boys was slumped against the seat, eyes shut in a deep slumber.

He smiled. Proud of his boys as he climbed out of the car and went around the side, about to open the door.

He waited a moment, trying to think of the best way to wake Sam without harming Dean.

He sighed, why was life so difficult, reaching out he used one hand to hold Dean steady in case Sam starting squirming, then he shook Sam awake.

Brown eyes opened slowly, staring at John's for a moment before a quiet moan broke through their silence.

TBC

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THANKS:

I have to thank each and every one of you who have taken the time to review. Please continue to do so and I'll guarantee an update. You guys are the reason I continue to write and post stories.

A/N:

I'd just like to point out I'm a student with no medical training so you'll have to ignore anything that seems unrealistic in up coming chapters, though depending on how I write them we might be able to avoid a lot of that.

Do you like where this chapter went? Let me know. Please review.

Until next time. Keep Smilin' :)


	10. Chapter 10

Ok guys, this chapter is longer than the others, but I'm not feeling confidant about its quality. Every week when I sit down to write the next chapter I re-read you reviews and they serve as my inspiration. I thank each and everyone who has reviewed.

REVEIWS: (sorry is I misspell/forget you!)

L'insomnie des etoiles, nikita, morning sunlight, morning sunlight, Unreal Wanderers, Brenny, Rhesa, Thru Terry's Eyes, mtuffy, purehalo, princesspeanut, blazingfire03, DeanLives, The Silent Rumble, WelshChicky.

**Chapter Ten**

Sam looked instantly down to his brother, realising his hand was still entangled in Dean's hair.

He slowly drew his hand away, eyes timidly darting from his father to his brother. Unsure of what to do.

"Dean? Son, can you hear me?" John asked, lending a reassuring hand to Sam. The elder boys eyelids flickered a little, his eyes opened slightly before closing again, all the tension in his muscles going slack again.

"Dad?" Sam asked, an absent hand rubbing the sleep from his eyes. John smiled to his youngest before leaning over him and wrapping his arms around Dean, gently lifting the teenager from the car.

He went to the door, silently praying no one would see them as Sam pushed the key into the lock and turned it with a gentle click.

"Hurry up Sam, your brother is getting heavy." John hissed, immediately regretting the anger that seeped into the statement.

Sam silently cursed his father, cursed him for forcing Dean to do these things, cursed him for always being away on hunts, and cursed him for the life they led.

He let his anger bubbled up some more as his father pushed past him and into the room. He had had it.

For the first time he turned around, and instead of answering 'yes sir' like he had once been content to do he snarled. "Don't you dare tell me what to do!"

Taken by shock John unceremoniously dumped his eldest son on the closest bed and turned flaming eyes to the defiant boy before him.

"What. Did. You. Just. Say?" He demanded, cold fury and venom laced in every word.

Sam felt those words goad him onwards, giving him the satisfaction of getting to his father.

"I said: Don't tell me what to do!"

"Samuel Winchester, you will not talk to me like that again!"

"I will do what I want, I'm sick of being here when you go off on you hunts!" Sam's voice was filled with anger, no where near as intimidating as his fathers, but just as powerful. "I am sick of Dean having to drag you out of bars! Sick of having to keep this family alive! All you do is hunt and all Dean does is work for money and drop to his knees every time you walk past so his can kiss the dirt you contaminate!"

"Don't you dare say that to me, I work hard for this family! You have no right to say that!" John yelled, their anger heightening.

OoOoOoOoO

Dean heard the yelling, he wanted so much for it to go away. His head was throbbing.

He took a deep breath, unnoticed by anyone in the room and, keeping his eyes closed, did a mental assessment on his injuries.

His nose was broken, he knew that from before, and his finger was dislocated, easy to fix, he had a gash on one arm, but his memory told him it wasn't deep, and would heal quickly.

Stinging up and down his arms and legs served as reminders of the fun few minutes he had spent being dragged down dark alley ways, and a coppery taste in his mouth announced that his had somehow bitten his tongue in the process.

"What do you mean I'm a bad father?" an outraged voice broke into his thoughts.

"It's your fault Dean went there…you could have left us money!"

"My fault his was foolish enough to go parading around so he could get the stuffing beaten out of him?"

"Foolish? He was trying to get money, you know, SO WE CAN EAT!"

Dean tried to block it out again. Sam and his father were arguing, it sounded worse than it had been for a while. It annoyed Dean to no end.

And he dreaded to think this would be a reoccurring happening. Fights. Arguments. Mood Swings.

Sometimes Dean felt safer in a Fight Club. Here no matter what you said it was against someone.

"Dean did this even though you two could have waited, it's his own fault!"

"Dean does more for us than you do." The words were whispered, quiet, as though the owner had suddenly realised how pointless the argument was.

John felt those words hit home. He wanted to seize his son and cry for both of them. It was true; Dean did do a lot for this family.

"You're right." John muttered. "He takes care of us."

These words peaked Dean's interest; his father never spoke about him like that.

He heard shuffling feet come over to him. "You hear that son?" His father's voice once again tried to get his eyes to open.

"Why don't you tell him when he can hear you?" A voice asked, it wasn't an accusation, a suggestion.

"I will."

Dean felt himself swell with happiness. John and Sam finally agreed, they weren't fighting, they were actually being rational.

He smiled.

"Dean?"

His eyes cracked open and he found himself staring at his father's concerned face. John had an arm around Sam as if they hadn't just spent the night yelling at each other.

"You ok Dean?" Sam asked.

Dean's smile widened. "You guys finally figured it out…" He whispered in a scratchy voice that made him want to wince. Dean Winchester's voice was never scratchy.

"Figured what out?" John demanded.

"That you guys actually love each other." Dean motioned to their arms around each other. "Nice to know you're not fighting."

They both blushed, neither bothering to tell Dean about their earlier yelling contest, neither knowing he had heard it.

"You didn't answer you're brother's question…are you ok?"

Dean smiled, "When am I not?"

"Good, because we need to have a talk about all of this."

Dean scowled. 'Life is so not fair.' He thought.

John smiled, running a hand over his son's face. "Let me fix you up first. You need some rest."

"Dad…I'm not a kid!" Dean protested. "And Dean Winchester is never broken, you can't fix me."

Sam laughed, his goofy smile spreading over his face. Dean watched his brother for a moment, as Sam yawned.

Dean moved back, trying to ignore the little flames of pain that shot through his body. He lifted the blankets and climbed under then, motioning for Sam to join him.

"Dean?"

"The other bed's Dad's now…and I'm in yours…" Sam grinned, climbing into the bed.

"We never speak of this again." Dean murmured as Sam curled up next to his brother and they both fell asleep, John sitting beside them, slowly cleaning Dean's wounds.

**TBC**

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It's not over yet! I think I might have one more chapter. I know this chapter didn't have a lot of action in it, please please tell me if you like this one because I'm not to sure about it.

I love to hear your feed back and comments. They make my day.

KEEP SMILIN' :) (And reviewing)


	11. Chapter 11

Well guys, this be it, the last chapter. Thank you so much for your continued support. You guys mean the world to me! To everyone who has read and/or reviewed I just wanna say: THANKYOU! –Hugs- you are the best.

Recent reviewers: THANKS! ;)

happycabbage75, tvbatina, angel679, meg, LovinJackson, Katrin Van Helsing, Brenny, Unreal Wanderers, Thru Terry's Eyes, snchills, The Magik Dragen, DeanLives, Deana-Samantha, leanneB, purehalo, Midnight666, circleofstars.

**Chapter Eleven**

Sam shifted in his sleep, arm flopping casually over the side of the bed, hitting the floor with a gentle thud.

He silently wished it would stay night for a few more hours, wondering that if that he thought about it really hard, maybe the world would let him sleep…just a little longer.

Then, as though the world had heard him and was determined to contradict his wishes the sound of heavy footsteps charged across the floor, followed by the chinking sound of curtains being whipped open with the enthusiasm of a morning person.

Had Sam been fully awake he might have thrown his pillow at the person for being alive and moving at such a time in the morning, but he surely would have regretted the loss of his fluffy, warm, comfy, soft…

"Sam? You up yet sleeping beauty?"

Cosy, gentle, feathery, snug…

"Sammy?"

Inviting, relaxing, secure, comforting…

"Sam? You're missing breakfast…"

Right, that's it. The pillow went flying through the air to hit John Winchester smack in the face.

"A bit grumpy are we?" Asked a second voice from elsewhere in the room. Dean. Sam's eyes flew open and he jumped out of bed.

"Dean! You're up!" He exclaimed, taking in the sight of his brother lying across the sofa, the television blaring behind him, eyes fixed on his father's shell shocked face.

"Nope, it's all in your head Sammy, I'm not even here, we're on Pluto…in a cave…with a road map of Saturn."

A goofy grin spread across the youngest Winchester's face as he surveyed his brother's slightly bruised face, cuts and starches serving as evidence of the fun experience Dean must have had while being dragged on the floor.

"You ok Dean?" He asked as the smile faded.

"No…"

Sam's heart stopped for a moment…Dean was always ok…right?

"I'm dead and six feet under, didn't you hear the news? I always thought you'd be at my funeral Sammy, I was so disappointed you missed it." Dean continued, unaware of his brother's relief.

Sam smiled, running over and hugging his brother tenderly, "I'm glad you're ok."

"Oh, dude, your blocking the TV!" Dean said, leaning around Sam, trying to see.

"I'm glad your ok too son." John said, the first time he had spoken since being greeting with Sam's pillow.

Dean smiled, settling back into the sofa.

"Cuz that means we can talk about all of this."

_Damn._

Dean turned mischievous eyes to his father. "I don't feel well dad, my head hurts and my arms sting and…"

"Ok, ok…" John waved him off, knowing his son was lying.

"Hey Sammy?" Dean asked, Sam's head shot up.

"Yeah Dean?"

"Can you get me some pancakes?"

"Get your own."

"Hello? Wounded solider here…"

"What do you want me to do? Kiss your boo boo's better?"

"No, I want you to get me some pancakes."

"Dad…make Dean get his own breakfast."

"Sam, your brothers hurt."

"Yeah I'm hurt."

"You just said you were fine!"

"I'm dying Sammy!"

"Fine, I'll get your damn pancakes…jerk."

"Good, hurry up, Bitch."

"Boys!"

"Well if Sam did what I told him to we wouldn't be in this situation…I mean all I wanted was some pancakes, quickly, with syrup, and maybe some juice, and I'd like some chocolate for later, and maybe…"

"Dream on Dean…"

"Where are my pancakes?"

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

**Epilogue**

The room was empty by now, the blood was gone, the money was gone, and the people were gone.

All that was left was a single body, lying prone in by the far wall. Unmoving, forgotten.

At first, it appeared that he were dead, just the rotting corpse of another loser.

But upon closer inspection, the gentle rising of a beaten chest told a half hidden truth. Lungs inflated with air, slowly at first, but then faster as the eyes of their owner flicked.

Despite the pain, the blood there was anger. Pure, unchecked, unstoppable anger.

Eyes raged with the fury of a heart of hatred.

Eyes of a lone fighter, once unbeatable, not beaten and broken.

But no one and he meant no one, stripped McFinnigan of his pride and lived to tell the tale.

Red stood on his own to feet, using the wall for support. His eyes glaring holes in the room he had once been a champion.

Revenge is the sweetest thing, he reminded himself.

When he found Dean Winchester, he would crush him like a bug, like a feather run over by a thousand horses.

He would break Winchester. And this time, John Winchester wouldn't find him. This time, he would be prepared.

Red smirked to himself.

Dean Winchester was going to die for Red.

THE END

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SEQUEL: I am not sure if I am gonna do one; it is all up to you! Do you want to know what happens next? If ya do, review and tell me so and keep an eye out, I'll have it up on my Profile soon as to whether there will be one or not.

A/N: Its done, I am so happy I made it this far…THANKYOU TO EVERYONE WHO HAS REVIEWED!

Tell me what you think, and until next time…

KEEP SMILIN' :)

ShadowMayne. :D


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